Page 19 of Clash Of Worlds

“Yes. You see,” I pulled out a folder from my purse and moved around his desk to lay it before him. “This area sits right over the river. Dead smack in the middle. As a gift to me, from both my father and my husband. I’m allowed to put anything I want there.”

“So, you came to me, why?”

“Because you’re the best developer. I know your name from New York.” I paused, running my nails over the paper. “It’s quite a popular name, and it’s attached with a lot of prestige too.”

“I spent quite a bit of time building my reputation to the degree it is.” he said, looking over the spot before turning to me. “What are you really doing here, Mrs. Doyle?”

“Your name, the last time I was in New York,” I started, hitching my hip against his desk, “didn’t have any ties to the mafia. So, what, you thought you could come into this city and thought you could control it?”

“Did they send you in here to spy?”

I laughed deeply at that, causing his eyebrow to rise.

“You think they would do that? Not at all. This,” I waved my hand over the folder, “is nothing. An excuse to get in here long enough to let you in on a little secret about this city, and the people who hold all the power here.”

“You think that’s your family? Your husband’s family, Mrs. Doyle? That’s rich. But let me state that there’s a new player in this game, that your time for controlling this city is up. And that your marriage, while sweet, was foolish because it won’t make enough waves to knock me down. You are all at an end. Now, please leave.”

I looked at my nails, before giving him my most evil smile.

“What are you smiling about, Doyle? I said you were done. There are men watching you now.”

“Oh, I know. I know the two-way glass. But they didn’t do a very good job of checking me, which is utterly dumb.” I looked down at my thigh, which had a gun pointing straight at him.

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Trevor

I checked my gun, then checked the time, feeling like something was going to go down any minute.

“I think-” Before I could even finish that statement, I heard shouts and then gun shots. “Fuck,” I roared, jumping out of the car, gun in hand, and running towards the building.

“Trevor!” But I didn’t look back, didn’t have time to think. Not with her in there.

But I stopped straight in the middle of the road as Lucia ran out, her gun at her side.

“Let’s go!” she cried out, finally pushing me into action. I turned right around and jumped back into the car, only hitting the gas pedal when she was in. “Well, that didn’t quite go as planned,” she muttered, taking the gun her dad offered.

“Dare I even ask?” I glanced back at her before looking in the rearview mirror, easily seeing cars behind us. “We got lots of company. What did you tell them?”

“Jokes, Doyle?”

“Yes, Russo. Because, why not?” I rolled my eyes at my father-in-law as I made a sharp right.

Of course, we had a game plan set in motion because we knew, without a doubt, that this would be the outcome. Sure, the plan was to get close enough to the man but not kill him. Just let him know he couldn’t fight two families and expect to win. That this was not the city to come into and try to take over.

I was going to go out on a limb and say he didn’t like that comment too much.

“Did you shoot him?”

“Not as badly as I wanted to. But the moment I had the gun exposed and fired, well, let’s just say men were racing in. I did get him in the shoulder though,” she offered. “He won’t be shooting for a while.”

I smiled at that, rather proud of her. She just showed up her dad because he thought she couldn’t pull it off. Hell, she probably did better than any man did because men would want their ego in their way, but not her, not a woman. See, for the Italian men, women were highly undervalued for this kind of job.

“Lucia, you are far too reckless. I think you-” but he was quickly cut off as she screamed just as the back window shattered.

“This is the second car they’ve destroyed of mine! Get out the window Russo and shoot back! It seems we’re having an issue with our men coming to our aid.” I gave him a nasty side eye, almost laughing at the glare he returned.

“Don’t push your luck, Doyle.” With that, I maneuvered the car so he could lean out slightly, cussing a shit storm in Italian and finally laid down some rounds. “That felt good. I haven’t been in a fight in a long time.” I glanced over at him as he reloaded his gun. “Keep the car straight this time.”

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